One Shots: Ranger edition
by One Shiny Mess
Summary: One shots for The A-Team movie  2010  in response to prompts for a meme on livejournal. Some will be general, some slash, some explicit.
1. Chapter 1: Confidence Men

Title: Confidence Men

Pairing/Characters: Face/Hannibal, movie-verse.

Summary: Hannibal watches Face work from their base of operations, then they discuss his performance.

Note/Warning: see pairing. Written for a prompt at a href="http:/a_team_.com"The A-Team Kink Meme/a.

The camera was hidden in the runner at the top of the curtains, the backup recorder was in the fake ficus. _Getting predictable_, he thought, making a note to tell Hannibal they needed to get more creative next time.

He gestured his companions further into the motel room and closed the door behind them. "You said you're in Real Estate, James?" he asked, walking casually over to his small wet bar and pouring himself two fingers of bourbon.

James Breton nodded, looking awkward in the luxurious setting. His wife, on the other hand, looked _hungry_.

They were pimps running a poorly moderated brothel out of one of their low -income tenements, with no regard for their employees. Face nodded slightly toward the camera and then took the seat directly beneath it, in the deliberate blind spot they'd left. "So, do you strict to tenement housing or do you have your fingers in the commercial market?" he asked, keeping up the round tones which had caught their social-ladder climbing hearts' attention in the first place.

Aleese Breton looked slightly irritated, but James relaxed a little as they talked shop. Face gave him a few pieces of sound advice for any Real Estate agent looking to branch out into bigger business. While they spoke, Face made sure to use everything he'd observed about this power couple against them.

Aleese Breton was expected to respond to the seduction. It was a little surprising James was, too, but Face had an open mind. What was more, he had good eyes and this wasn't a total shock.

He'd had three well watered whiskeys by this point, and the Bretons had had their own, less doctored glasses to match, so Face was literally watching their composure fail in pieces as he took them apart. Aleese couldn't tear her eyes away from his neck when he loosened his tie and undid the top few buttons of his clearly expensive, tasteful patterned Oxford, while James glanced at his arms several times after he'd removed his cuff links and rolled the sleeves back, ostensibly getting heated from the alcohol.

He made plans to meet up with them after his business meetings the next day, eyes heavy on Aleese's lovely red hair and hand brushing the back of James' neck in passing.

They left, convinced that he took the only half serious as investment prospects, but completely serious as potential bedmates.

Face pulled the door behind him, and winked at the camera before quickly sweeping the room the make sure they hadn't left any bugs.

Then he called Hannibal. "They're ours, Colonel."

Hannibal chuckled, but it had more heat than it normally did. Face, sitting on the bed, glanced toward the camera with interest. "I can see that, Lieutenant. Think you can get them to confess tomorrow?"

Face nodded, laying back on the bed and moaning a little at the fantastic mattress and soft sheets. "Absolutely," he murmured. "Start with business like today, distract 'em a little...probably the wife'll give it up." He smirked just a little at the double entendre.

Hannibal snorted. "You could seduce a saint to sin," he muttered.

Face smiled slyly at the camera. "Good for you," he said.

There was a moment's pause, and Face heard the tell-tale sound of a lighter being flicked. "What'd you need, kid?"

"Mm," Face hummed, rolling his head back to give a good shot at his profile to the camera. "Thought I might run my plays for tomorrow by you...see what you thought."

"I watched an apparently straight man nearly offer to blow you, kid," Hannibal pointed out, not giving an inch and amused like hell. "I don't think you need any tips on the con."

Face kicked off his shoes and slid his feet flat on the bed to lift his hips. He let the phone lay flat by his ear and quickly loosened his belt and the fly of his pants and shimmied out of them, leaving him in black boxer briefs, his undershirt and half-unbuttoned oxford.

He grabbed the phone and activated speaker, adjusting the volume to keep it for his ears only and waived it at the camera, smirking. He could imagine Hannibal sitting back in his chair, cigar smoke curling around him, long legs stretched out because he owned whatever environment he was in.

"Wearing your khakis or your jeans?" He asked languidly.

Hannibal snorted. "Interesting question to ask your CO," he pointed out gently. Face heard a door close behind him.

Face rolled his hips on the bed pointedly, knowing he had Hannibal's attention. "Only seems fair," he murmured.

"Ah, but life isn't fair, Lieutenant," Hannibal returned.

_Ball's in my court, huh?_ Face thought, entirely amused that Hannibal would make it this hard to have phone sex with him. "True enough, Colonel," he said, caressing the title. Then he finished unbuttoning his shirt. "Since you aren't going to level the playing field, you won't mind if I talk shop, then, do you?"

"By all means, Templeton," Hannibal murmured.

Face bit back a shiver at the intimate tone. _Bastard,_ he thought as his pulse picked up. "Thought I'd start with Aleese, get James relaxed a little...ease him into it, you know?"

He turned up on one arm away from the camera and took off the shirt, giving Hannibal a nice view of the flexing muscles in his back. He resettled in a telling silence, and couldn't keep a small smirk from his mouth. He used it.

"I could have her swearing her own mother is in on it in five minutes," he said. "Whatever we need, you let me know and I'll get it from them."

"Hm." Hannibal murmured. "And things I just want, Lieutenant?"

He was about to answer that taunt with another when there was a familiar hum in the background. Face actually sat up. "Boss - are you driving?"

Hannibal chuckled. "I'll be there in twenty minutes," he said.

Face actually laughed. "You've got the laptop in the seat beside you, don't you?"

Hannibal hummed acknowledgment. Face smiled, eyes bright and wicked as he stared directly into the camera. "Let me give you something to watch on the ride over," he said generously.

"Anything you do, remember I will take it out on you later," Hannibal warned.

Face brought his left leg up for a good frame and palmed his erection through his underwear. "Gonna spank me, Boss?"

"I think about it every day," Hannibal said mildly.

Face tossed his head back and laughed. _I bet_. He looked back to the camera and rolled his shoulders until his open oxford fell down to his wrists. He leaned forward so Hannibal could see him twist his wrists in the expensive cloth, giving himself a loose binding they both knew he wouldn't want to tear.

"Fifteen minutes," Hannibal said roughly. And hung up.

Face wondered how hard he could get Hannibal without the audio component. He smirked. Fifteen minutes could be a long time.


	2. Chapter 2: Ever Heard that Metaphor

Title: You Ever Heard That Metaphor, Like a Kick to the Gut?

Characters: Face, Creepy Prison Guard

Summary: Face is a soldier. People forget.

Note/Warning: Face kicking ass needs no warning./strike The title is actually longer than the fic, though. (Not really.) Written for a prompt at a href="http:/a_team_.com"The A-Team Kink Meme/a.

Face waited until he could feel the presence right behind him, then instigated the grab by starting to turn. When the hand landed on his shoulder, he grabbed it, used it to keep the creep right there and spent thirty seconds first elbowing and then punching his solar plexus. Then he let go and he slumped to the ground.

Face looked down at the unconscious guard and smiled. "Army strong, asshole."


	3. Chapter 3: Touched

Title: Touched

Characters: Hannibal/Face, with appearances by Murdock and BA _because they're awesome._

Summary: After sustaining injuries on their last mission, Face has to convince Hannibal to let him participate in the mission to Baghdad.

Warning: The prompt was for loving!Gentle!porn. JSing. Written for a prompt at a href="http:/a_team_.com"The A-Team Kink Meme/a.

The rest of the camp was in the middle of a bug-out and Hannibal Smith's A- Team was planning a covert excursion into Baghdad to extract a billion dollars counterfeit and the plates that allowed them to be pressed.

Face hadn't even been cleared for active duty yet: his wounds from the shrapnel were healing slowly because of the infections and his wrist was still bandaged from their last mission. His injuries weren't all that bad, really, but with the bug-out going on, nobody had taken the time to scribble their signature and boot his ass back into the daily grind.

It wouldn't have made a difference either way, when Face heard they actually were involved with the plates, there was no way he was letting the team go into Baghdad without him.

He eyed Hannibal thoughtfully, wondering how much bitching it would take to get in on the mission. Face's injuries hadn't been Hannibal's fault, but he was always worse than a mother bear when one of them actually got knocked down hard enough to stay there.

"We can approach the convoy from the west wall here: good cover, good line of sighed from this vantage point."

"There's a better way," Face said.

Hannibal looked up, eyebrows arched slightly at the challenge. "Oh, by all means," he said waiving his hand, scattering ash and trailing smoke.

Face smiled at him. "The west wall's a good secondary approach, but if I remember the tunnels right - and of course I do - they should run under the main road here."

Hannibal nodded, unimpressed. "You want a cookie?"

Murdock leaned forward, wide-eyed. "Do you have some, colonel?"

Hannibal turned to Murdock, still wearing that faux-friendly face - for about half a second before it collapsed. "There should be some in that box, Captain."

"Hannibal, you don't need to be giving that fool sugar," BA said plaintively. "He's crazy enough on his own!"

"Oooh, they're chocolate-chip!"

"_And chocolate_?" BA said, sounding horrified.

With good reason, since Murdock always zeroed in on him when he felt really wild, much like a cat would always cuddle up to the person with the worst allergies.

Face disguised his laughter as a cough. He and Hannibal looked at each other, briefly united in their shared amusement, before Face renewed his assault on Mt. Hannibal. _I'm going with you_, he thought firmly.

Hannibal smiled slightly. "BA, why don't you take Murdock out to the open space and let him run some of his energy off while Face and I discuss our approach? Don't let him get into trouble, though."

BA glanced over at Hannibal, eyebrows arched. He looked between him and Face and then decided retreat was the better part of valor.

"What if I hop to the tune of the Star-Spangled Banner?"

Ba rolled his eyes and herded Murdock out of the tent. Hannibal and Face stared at each other quietly for a minute, and then Face smiled a little, and cocked his head. "Like I was saying, the tunnels approach is a little harder but we're safer from being seen - and shot at - early."

Hannibal shrugged. "We'd need three men on the ground for that," he pointed out.

Face nodded, still smiling. "Yeah," he said. He looked at the map and shrugged and snagged one of the water bottles sitting around and took a swallow. Hannibal hadn't said anything by the time he was done swallowing, he shrugged. "Don't see the problem: me in the tunnels, BA next to take the truck and you cleaning up behind us."

Hannibal frowned, eyes moving not to Face's wrist, which was the only visible injury while he was wearing his Army-issued tee, but to his torso, where he still had a few bandages from taking shrapnel to the chest through body armor.

"I'm OK, Boss," Face said. _Not like I meant to be right on top of an IED in faulty equipment, Hannibal_.

Hannibal shook his head. "No. You haven't even been cleared for active duty."

Face snorted and closed the distance between them to lean against the boxes beside Hannibal and wait it out.. "Officially. We both know that's just bullshit laziness on everyone's part: figure that'll wait till after the bug-out. You know I'm ready."

Hannibal looked at the map again without saying anything. Finally he grunted. "You sure this isn't about the Captain's visit?" he asked, turning his bright blue eyes straight to Face's.

Face blinked. "I can't believe you just asked me that."

Hannibal had the grace to look slightly embarrassed, but didn't retract his question.

Face sighed. "No, it doesn't have anything to do with Charissa being here," he said dutifully.

Hannibal relaxed a little after he read the truth of that in Face's eyes, then he sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. Face let him think through his own guilt quietly for a minute, then leaned forward and touched Hannibal's elbow, angling his body to cover it should anyone come in unexpectedly. "Hannibal. Please?"

Hannibal looked down at Face's hand still resting on his arm, face blank.

Face slowly withdrew, guilty and angry. Hannibal stopped the retreat, grabbing his hand. He shook his head fiercely, grabbing the wrist of the hand Face was touching him with and squeezing firmly. "You're sure."

Face nodded slowly,, his stomach relaxing from the serious cramp from a minute ago. "I wouldn't ask otherwise. Not if there was a risk I couldn't hold up my end." He looked at Hannibal inquiringly. They both knew Hannibal knew this.

Hannibal snorted a little and nodded, and his hand holding Face's briefly tangled fingers with Face's before sliding away. "When the band broke up," he muttered cryptically.

Face thought back a moment and decided Hannibal must mean the time they'd closed out a bar after BA had turned in and Murdock passed out (with his shorts on his head) two years ago. The band had gone home about 03:00, which meant he would have to outlast BA and Murdock on the rest of tonight's planning session in Hannibal's tent.

He nodded to Hannibal, then followed the sounds of crashing and shouts to collect their other members.

"This really is crazy, Hannibal," Face muttered about half an hour after they'd hammered out the plan. They were taking a good four hour break to catch some rest before they assembled their supplies. Ten minutes had passed since BA had left, carrying a dead-asleep Murdock in a fireman's hold over his left shoulder. It always amused Face how nice BA was to the pilot when he was unconscious, considering how much time he spent threatening to kill him when he was awake.

His attention returned to the present when Hannibal flicked his lighter. He glanced over as he took a puff from his re-lit cigar. "Nobody would predict it," he pointed out.

Face snorted, glancing from Hannibal to the plans and back to where the Colonel was leaning easily against the table a few feet from where Face was sitting. Any other man, Face would have expected him to look nervous. Anyone else, he'd have said they were covering up their worries with a show of bravado. Anyone not John "Hannibal" Smith. "You're happy with yourself," he said, smiling slightly.

Hannibal smirked. "Good team, good plan-a chance to put a hurting on some very bad people...yeah," he said. "I'm happy."

Face leaned back in his chair and just looked at him for a minute. The low light flickered now and then as bugs investigated, playing shadows over Hannibal's face. _As if he isn't enigmatic enough, the smug bastard_, he thought affectionately. _All part of the plan, my ass_. He looked back to the map and thought of the plan. He snorted as he considered all the painful ways it could go horribly wrong and laughed at himself. "I wouldn't do this with any other team," he said, glancing back to Hannibal.

Hannibal looked up after a minute and smiled slowly at Face, blue eyes crinkling warmly. "I'm glad you're in on this."

Face nodded and then pushed himself to his feet, still smiling softly. "Me too." He glanced down casually at Hannibal's wrist and then to his face.

Hannibal's look sharpened slightly, focused on the more immediate present than the run they were making in the next 10 hours. He nodded slightly and they folded up the map quietly. "I'll see you in a few hours, kid," he said when they were done.

Face nodded. "Get some rest, Boss," he said, smiling slightly.

Hannibal's eyes narrowed a little further. "Got plans in the next few hours, Face?"

Face glanced back from the entry to the tent. "Oh, no, Boss: not with these injuries of mine," he said, wide-eyed. "What if some wild young thing breaks me before our mission?"

Hannibal choked on his next puff as he laughed while inhaling. "The day you let strained tendons and a few bruises keep you from your dates, I'll call the camp doctor and let him know you've gone crazier than Murdock."

Face smirked. "In that case, I do have plans," he said mildly. Then he held up a hand. "Ah, don't ask, Boss: I'm feeling the need for something slow and tender tonight: don't want wagging tongues to scare her off before she finds out how many better uses I can put them to."

Hannibal looked at him with an expression most people might read as fond, or exasperated - really observant people would notice how focused he was, and might read it for anger even. Face knew what lust looked like, though. And on Hannibal, he could also recognize the solution when lust and affection melted together. It ignited a sweet heat in his own belly as they only looked at each other for a second, just like that - longer than it took to read each other, really, after all their time together - and then Hannibal nodded. "Get gone then, lieutenant."

Face nodded and saluted right before he pushed open the door, in case anyone was observing them. He wouldn't put it past Black Forest to try and get in on their plan. He held the tent open a half second as he started walking to give Hannibal a view as he left and smiled.

Forty minutes of random wandering later, Face slipped back into Hannibal's tent. He found himself pulled firmly to the side of the tent walled by the "unofficial" supplies Face had helped Hannibal assemble. The lantern had been doused and the flaps of the tent didn't let in much light. He could smell the unique blend of good cigars and cheap detergent, sweat and soap he could immediately recognize - anywhere - as Hannibal, and relaxed even though it was too dark to see. "Boss?"

Hannibal was behind him, close enough to feel his heat. He slid his hands down the lower half of Face's arms, grabbed Face's hands in his and guided Face's arms up like that, pressing his palms to the supply crates. "Stay," he said into Face's ear, voice low and with a rougher lilt than normal.

Face unsuccessfully swallowed a small shiver. "Hannibal?" he asked lowly, glancing behind him and cursing the dark.

Hannibal laughed softly and slid his hands down to Face's wrists, one bandaged and one whole. He gently squeezed both, careful of Face's wounds. "Hush."

Face waited, but Hannibal didn't do anything else. They stood there like that, Hannibal close behind him but only touching along their arms. Face gradually relaxed and nodded. When his head turned forward again, Hannibal stroked slowly up Face's loosely-bent arms, taking a moment to rub small circles over his forearms and biceps..

Face didn't realize he was leaning back until he touched Hannibal. He tensed slightly, but Hannibal squeezed his shoulders. "It's fine," he murmured.

Face swallowed, and tried to focus on the inconsistencies in the cheap packing container he could feel under his fingers as heat spiked from his gut. He was already breathing fast just from Hannibal close like that, and both of them were still completely clothed. _Damn_.

Hannibal continued slowly mapping out his upper body like that, rubbing small circles over Face's shirt barely hard enough for Face to feel through his undershirt. Face could feel himself sinking, the edges of his the world dulling while his sense of Hannibal heightened. "Boss?"

Hannibal hummed in his ear and rubbed small circles over his shoulders. "Calm down," he said roughly. "Lean back."

Face did, trusting Hannibal to take his weight, and Hannibal shifted forward, hips canting as he slipped one leg forward between Face's. He waited for Face to relax again and stroked over Face's sides, careful of his wounds, and down until he had his thumbs hooked under the band of Face's khakis.

"Hannibal," Face breathed, pressing back on Hannibal's leg supporting him and into his groin. He was hard enough to hammer nails and tried rolling his hips to ease the ache, but Hannibal had him tight and kept him pressed close. "Boss, please?"

Hannibal chuckled and it brought Face back from the edge from desperate to a warm place where his erection didn't matter quite as much as having Hannibal's hands on him.

"Good boy," Hannibal said, pressing his lips to Face's neck. He rubbed Face's stomach a little and then unbuttoned the fly of Face's pants. "It'll happen," he continued, backing up just enough to ease Face's pants and underwear down a few inches.

"Be nice if it could happen sometime in the next three hours, Boss," Face said, laughing a little.

Hannibal grinned. "Just following orders, kid. Slow and tender, right?" He squeezed Face's torso in a careful hug. "You just stand here and let me love you."

Face dropped his head forward into the crates and cursed, laughing breathlessly. "You're going to kill me."

Hannibal rubbed his mouth over the back of Face's neck, teased him by pressing his teeth gently to the skin there. "You're going to love it," he promised. "You'll even thank me."

Face swallowed. "If I say pretty please, you think you could hurry?"

Hannibal smiled against his neck again and slid his hand down to trace a finger over Face's balls. "Try."

Face choked down a moan and took a minute to breathe as Hannibal carefully trailed a finger over his sac to the base of his erection and followed a vein to the head. "Hannibal..." he hissed desperately. "I'll get you Cubans next time - whatever you want, Boss, you haven't touched me in two weeks. Please. Pretty please."

Hannibal stroked up over his stomach with his free hand and rubbed his stomach soothingly. "Sh, calm down," he murmured. "I'll take care of you."

Face took a few deep breaths and relaxed again. Hannibal stopped teasing and took him fully in hand, grip comfortably tight. "Good?"

Face nodded shallowly, feeling Hannibal's stubble rub against where his neck and shoulder met as he moved.

"Hm." Hannibal pressed a kiss to his shoulder. "Keep breathing, kid: I'll take you there, nice and slow."

And he did: his strokes were firm, but slow as he coaxed the manic fire which had bubbled in Face over the last few weeks into a more steady, comforting blaze - and then stoked it steadily higher.

Face was rolling his hips as much as he could with Hannibal's rhythm, but Hannibal had dropped his other hand back to his hip to hold him still. At least he could manage a little wiggle, and he used it to good advantage to press against Hannibal's erection in uneven bursts.

Hannibal chuckled right in his ear and then thrust forward sharply, riding his ass and stroking him at the same time. Face whimpered.

"That's right," Hannibal said quietly.

He repeated the motion and Face's head fell forward as most of his focus narrowed to his dick. "Hannibal."

Hannibal had him right on the line and kept him there, stringing him out into a desperate mess as he stroked him slowly, in time to his thrusts.

Face had a hard time focusing on the details when Hannibal started whispering, but he only missed a little of the sentence when he clued in and forced himself to focus.

"...beautiful, everything about you...love you so much...never let you go, Templeton."

It buoyed him over the edge. Orgasm should have been violent after being strung along so long, after not getting a minute to himself for the last two weeks, but Hannibal softened the edge expertly, stretching it out as long as he could. Face was too occupied with a blackening vision to notice what exactly he was doing.

He kept himself conscious and shifted his weight to his left arm after a few minutes, moving his right from holding the crates as he had been and gripping Hannibal's hand with it. His fingers were a little numb since he'd left them up so long, but feeling was returning quickly.

"Damn, Boss," he muttered. "Where'd that come from?" It was a little embarrassing, he'd been brought weak-kneed from a hand-job.

Hannibal chuckled against his neck, rubbing his stubble against the already lightly abraded skin there. "Didn't want you up to anything too strenuous," he said. He pressed a kiss to the raw skin he was rubbing against. "You needed it."

Face knew he was blushing. His cheeks were hot with it. _Thank God it's dark in here_. Hannibal shifted his weight, rubbed Face's belly a final time, and pulled back.

Face frowned. "Hey, what about you?"

"Don't worry about it," Hannibal said casually. "Nothing strenuous, like I said."

Face snorted. _Yeah, like THAT'S going to fly_. He reached out and cautiously connected with Hannibal's arm, then latched on and pushed him back another step. He smiled. "Nothing wrong with my mouth, eh?" he asked, kneeling.

"Face..." Hannibal sounded very cautious for a man about to get a blow job.

Face smirked as Hannibal let him unbuckle his belt. _Reap what you sow, Boss._


	4. Ch4: Pretty in PiRed Definitely Red

Title: Pretty in Pi-Red. Definitely Red.

Characters: Face/Hannibal, movie-verse

Summary: Another from a_team_kink on LJ. Prompt was Hannibal catching Face in women's underwear, and liking it. I didn't have to dig deep for characterization.

Note/Warning: Slight abuse of thongs? Smut. Dirty talk, but again, fairly tame in what actually happens. It's not cruel of me, I hope. I really enjoy good foreplay in fanfic.

Hannibal smiled and closed an automatic email confirmation. "All right, boys: we finished our end of the deal and we've gotten the wire transfer. Stand down for the rest of the night and we can scatter in the morning."

Face waived a hand as he walked into the hallway and to his room.

Hannibal glanced over at BA. "Anything happen on patrol?"

BA shook his head. "Nah, he was a bit antsy, though. Couldn't really sit still."

Hannibal hummed thoughtfully. "What are you two going to do?"

Murdock shrugged. "I wanted to play a little more on the Xbox," he said, staring at BA curiously. "How about it, Bosco? Want to redeem your honor?"

BA snorted. "The only reason you won last time was because you started yelling about your damn socks, fool."

"Well," Murdock adopted a posh accent. "We shall determine our true skills...on the field of honor."

BA cuffed him easily. "Get in there so I can kick your ass."

Hannibal smiled a little after them and then stood, stretching. _Okay, kid: let's see what's up with you._ He crossed the living room and hallway of the small house quickly, and knocked once on the door to announce himself before pushing it open.

Face looked up, eyes going wide. Hannibal blinked. Face's expression smoothed out, and he wanted to think about the almost flinch but what he was seeing in his peripheral vision was enough to stop his brain.

Face met his eyes for a long, shocked minute before he smiled brightly. "Hey, Boss: getting changed, here. Give me a minute."

And he flicked the slacks he'd been stepping into when Hannibal entered.

Hannibal couldn't quite look down as the lacy red fabric was covered under well-fitted slacks.

Face pulled on a loose button-up t-shirt and started on the bottom button. "Need something, Hannibal?"

Hannibal couldn't remember what he'd been intending to ask. He shook his head.

"Okay, well," Face left the top two buttons undone and looked at him curiously. "This is sort of awkward."

Hannibal took a step forward and closed the door behind him. When he looked back to Face, Face arched and eyebrow in amused tolerance, but under that Hannibal could see his nervousness.

"No wonder you were antsy," he muttered, staring at Face's hips and slowly looking him over.

"Antsy?" Face blinked.

Hannibal shrugged. "BA said you were hyperactive on watch," he explained.

"And you came to check on me," Face said, and there was an honest emotion in the tone: exasperation and amusement.

"You were acting a little strange," Hannibal said, taking another step forward over the uneven floorboards, closing the distance between him and the bed. He set a hand on the closest post of the footboard. "What was..."

Face sighed, dropping to sit on the bed he'd commandeered for the duration of this mission. "I grabbed the wrong bag," he explained.

"And you happen to have a bag full of women's underwear in your size just laying around," Hannibal said, arching an eyebrow.

Face shrugged. "What can I say, man?" he asked, forcing a laugh but nervousness showing more and more. He pulled a hand through his hair and looked at the wall to Hannibal's left.

Hannibal looked at him thoughtfully, then thought about the image he'd walked in on. Face naked except for a red lace thong, his muscles taut as he twisted to grab his pants. He'd frozen like that, one leg outstretched slightly, giving his ass even greater definition. His ass, which was already firm, well- muscled as it was, and highlighted by a thin line of stretchy red lace that started with a triangle at the crack of his ass which lead down and was swallowed between his cheeks.

_He's been wearing these...panties. All week_, Hannibal realized, getting warmer. When Face had been scamming those girls, when he'd taken down the bodyguards, when he'd smiled brightly at Hannibal two days in and promised to scam him a restaurant - which he had, for the duration of the con.

He sat beside Face, and when the kid looked up, he pressed his shoulder against Face's gently. "I'm not mad," he said. The tension in the shoulder pressed to his eased, and Face looked over.

Hannibal smiled a little. "I'm a little confused, d_efinitely _intrigued," he clarified. "Not angry."

Face licked his lips. "Yeah?" His thigh eased over to press against Hannibal's, light enough to be an accident if they weren't completely focused on each other.

_That's what I wanted to know, kid_, Hannibal thought approvingly, and shifted closer in response, and now they were touching from knee to shoulder, and the heat from Face's body was encouraging the heat in his blood. They'd done this a few times before, only when they could get some time alone and they needed it, and Hannibal's dick was telling him it had been too damn long.

He slid a hand between them, twisting a little to brace on the bed behind them. There was a small space between their upper bodies now.

"Boss?" Face cocked his head, angling slightly into Hannibal automatically.

Hannibal held his eyes firmly and lifted his other hand, moving it toward Face's hip slowly, giving him every chance to move, watching his expression for every hint of emotion.

"Hannibal," Face said, voice a little lower and rougher as his own body heated up.

"Yeah, Face?" Hannibal asked mildly, and wondered if Face would catch the slight brogue that came out when he was excited.

"Didn't know you were into this kind of thing," he said, almost tentatively, one hand covering Hannibal's and pressing it down where it was on his upper thigh.

"I always like it when you look nice," Hannibal murmured, flexing his hand to scratch lightly along the inside of Face's thigh, smiling as his eyes sank closed briefly before opening, almost narrow in their focus. Intent.

Face laughed a little, losing the last bit of tension. He still seemed confused, but he accepted Hannibal's interest was genuine. "This is a little different from pants that highlight my ass, Boss," he muttered.

Hannibal smiled. "I'm a man of diverse tastes." He slid his hand higher up Face's thigh, taking Face's hand with it. "So. How long have you been wearing ladies underwear? Ever worn it on a mission before?"

Face opened his mouth and then let out a small moan when Hannibal palmed his erection through his slacks - through his red, lacy underwear.

Hannibal smiled. "Tell me later."

Face smiled, slow and dirty. "What did you have planned, Boss?" he asked, leaning back until he was laying flat, half on the bed, feet still on the floor, covering Hannibal's bracing hand.

Hannibal shifted, pulled his legs onto the bed until he was kneeling over Face. "First, I think I'll unfasten these," and he pressed gently with the hand still covering Face's crotch. "Leave them on for a minute though."

Face smirked. "Sounds like a promising start."

"Good." Hannibal rotated his wrist to grab Face's hand and stretched out his arm to lay it flat on the bedspread. "Don't move that," he said mildly.

"You aren't usually this bossy in the bedroom," Face said, laughing a little.

"We haven't done this in a bedroom before," Hannibal said mildly. They hadn't, actually: a few times in a tent, once behind a tent, and once on the floor of an abandoned building in Baghdad when they'd nearly been fragged by an IED. He had the time to appreciate this, for once, and he intended to look his fill before showing Face exactly what he could .

His skin was tanned but the underside of his arms transitioned to a lighter color. His belly was the same shade. Gray slacks and a cream colored shirt, sprawled over a dark blue comforter. He looked good, expectant. Hungry. The pulse in his wrist was beating strong against Hannibal's hold. He leaned down and kissed the crease of his elbow, then pressed his teeth to the soft skin there.

Face laughed a little, and his wrist flexed in Hannibal's grip, but he didn't try to move. "Teeth are good," he said, _sotto voce._

"I remember," Hannibal said, pulling back slightly. He pressed Face's wrist down into the bed once for emphasis before he slid that hand up his arm. "I think we were here," he tugged his other hand from under Face's back and set both on Face's waist. "And I was going to do this." He unbuttoned the flap and tugged the fine-toothed zipper low.

Hannibal leaned back just a little to get a better look at Face. "A little more, I think." He slipped his hands under the loose fabric and over Face's hips. Face took a deep breath and helpfully raised his hips a little.

"Thank you, Templeton," Hannibal said, rubbing small circles over Face's hipbones, then moving lower to the edge of his underwear, now visible in the small gap Hannibal had opened. _Definitely need to see more_, Hannibal thought, sliding his hands low to cup Face's ass, smiling a little when no fabric got in his way. With more of his arms under the fabric, more of the red lace covering showed, and Face's dick was visible through the lace. It was clearly hard, pressing against it in an attempt to rise up.

"Hannibal," Face muttered warningly.

"Shh," Hannibal said. He slid his hands down, fingers briefly dipping into the crease between Face's cheeks as he brought the slacks down to his upper thighs smoothly. "That's better."

Face shuddered, hips falling back to the bed and Hannibal flexed his fingers along Face's thighs almost absently, distracted by the sight in front of him. The dark gray slacks and his still-buttoned cream shirt framing the line of skin of his thighs and his dick, straining against red lace underwear. "How does that feel?"

Face looked at him with dark eyes. "Good, normally. The inside is silky. A little less comfortable right now," he flexed his hips once in an aborted thrust for emphasis, and Hannibal appreciated the play of muscle he could see.

"I bet," Hannibal muttered. He made quick work of the four buttons Face had done up and left the shirt pooling open. "Well, aren't you pretty."

Face frowned a little and Hannibal grinned. "Tell me that isn't what you wanted to hear when you bought these," he ran a hand lightly over Face's chest until it touched the lace, and then he stroked the edge of skin and fabric.

"They were a gift," Face said, eyebrows arching just enough to look like arrogance.

Hannibal snorts and traces the head of his dick through the lace, and smiles when Face loses the cocky expression. "They certainly were," he said calmly, like he was talking about the weather. "I think you look...very nice. Dirty, of course: your pants are around your thighs and your shirt unbuttoned..." he stroked up Face's belly, tracing over his ribs and noting the spots where he almost flinched to test later. "Wearing _panties_. _Available._"

Face looked up, brows furrowed in confusion and a little humor - his dick was hard enough to speak for that - and Hannibal pinched his nipple without warning.

Face hissed, hips hitching up uselessly. "You're going to be a bastard about this, aren't you?" He asked, sounding amused and a little irritated.

Hannibal looked at him long enough for the focus to get a little uncomfortable for Face, and then he leaned forward, the hand on Face's dick sliding to his hip as he resettled, sitting lightly just over Face's crotch. The hand on his chest rising to cup his face. "Should I be a gentleman, instead?" he asked, close enough that he felt Face's sigh as a warm puff on his own mouth. "Are you the kind of young man that wants courting, Templeton?" He squeezed his hip in emphasis and rubbed his forefinger over the thin cord stretching over his hip to the triangle of lace at the top of his ass.

Face bucked his hips and swore. "Damn it, Hannibal," he muttered. "I love it when you're a bastard! Okay? Now get your damn pants off and you can rub off over my dick."

Hannibal blinked. Face saw the momentary confusion and smiled. "You don't want to press me into the bed and rub against my panties until we get them good and dirty?" He was definitely breathing faster now.

_Panties. Covered in._ Hannibal's brain went briefly nonverbal as he was hit with the image. He stared into those blue eyes inches beneath his own, pupils blow wide, and leaned forward, quickly taking Face's mouth.

Face sucked his lower lip into his mouth and nibbled on it. Hannibal's moan was muffled in their kiss, but Face felt his hand tremble in his hair, the one on his hip clenching tight.

"Keep that up and I won't be good for anything, kid," Hannibal muttered when they separated.

Face grinned brightly. "The kissing or the dirty talk?" he asked. "Need to know."

"Exactly," Hannibal replied, answering both questions, and then he pulled back, reluctantly letting go of Face's hair and hip to brace himself and slide off the bed. "Get naked," he ordered, hands moving to his own cotton-shirt.

"Yes, sir," Face said, approximating 'obedient' with a knowing look.

Hannibal hurried through the rest of his clothes, pulling his shirt over his head and dropping it without looking, then unbuckling his belt and unfastening his pants in almost one motion.

Face pulled his arms leisurely out of his shirt and was now slowly shimmying out of his pants, moving further up the bed each time he undulated.

"Shit," Hannibal muttered, shoving his pants and briefs down unceremoniously and stomping out of them. "I'll take those off," he growled when Face slid his hands under the band of his thong.

Face shrugged and leaned back into the mattress, sliding one hand up to stroke his own stomach. The other hand stayed where it was, tauntingly close to his erection.

Hannibal returned to the bed, body hot. "Damn, kid," he muttered, sliding over the bed to Face. He paused, kneeling beside him, taking in the visual. Face's languorous sprawl and toned physique invited touch, and the hand stroking his stomach encouraged it. His skin was tanned, but soft from his daily beauty regime. His nipples were dark and hard on his chest.

"Too damn pretty," he continued lowly, as his eyes followed the line of dark hair down his belly to where his fingertips disappeared under the red lace.

"Hannibal?" Face said, rolling his hips. "You don't do something, I will."

Hannibal cupped his cheek again, tilting his face up. "Anything you want," Hannibal promised without thinking about it, and then let it go because it was true.

Face swallowed. "You offering me a ring, Boss?" he asked, attempting to sound amused. "You think I'm that easy?"

Hannibal smiled. "Oh, you think it'll take some work?" he murmured, finally reaching out and pressing one hand to Face's wrist, holding it still where it was on his abdomen. "I don't mind convincing you. You need to know I'm a worthwhile partner, after all."

"Already know that, Boss," Face said wryly, color tinting his cheeks.

"Well, then," Hannibal said. He squeezed the wrist he was gripping gently. "One finger, Templeton."

Face closed his eyes, obviously understanding Hannibal's intent. "You want to kill me, Hannibal?"

Hannibal laughed. "I want to enjoy this," he said. "You saying you have a problem showing off?"

"No..." Face said, laughing a little breathlessly from his fast breathing. "You know, arrogance isn't usually an attractive trait."

Hannibal smirked. "I know." He shifted so he was stretched out on Face's right side. "Show me something pretty," he murmured.


End file.
